Choosing, Part I: Place Your Face
by K. Fang-sama
Summary: L is trying to pick his successor, but their flaws are too much for him to pick one. So, L decides to give them each a challenging case to handle in separate parts of the world and see if their success can make them change for the better. Rating may go up in future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, first time with Death Note fanfic, so allow me to make a disclaimer for you. Obviously, I don't own anything except this plot line and any of the characters I make up. Everyone else belongs in Death Note. Then there's the fact that this is indeed my first time, so my apologies if you feel like the characters are OOC (feel free to comment if they are). Finally, there's the fact this doesn't line up with the actual plot line. You'll get some of the characters, but there's nothing else to it.  
**_

_**Now, let's get started!**_

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Choosing

**Part I:** "Place Your Face"

_**Chapter One:**_

Mello's morning started off as they normally did on Mondays; he got up, took a shower, brushed his teeth, pretty much got ready for the day before stepping out of his room with a chocolate bar sticking out of his mouth. He then crossed the hall to wake up, probably the only person he treated with any form of kindness at Whammy's House: Matt. This, of course, did not include when the guy went to bed late on Sunday night, which left Mello to kick open the door in order to wake the ginger up.

"MATT! GET THE_ FUCK_ UP! WE'VE GOT SCHOOL THIS MORNING!" Naturally, Matt sat up in his dazed and tired expression, but reluctantly got up because he was too tired to fend off the seventeen-year-old blond. So, Mello waited in the door frame; tapping his foot impatiently while munching more of his chocolate bar until such time Matt was ready. "Took you long enough!" He complained, "When will you ever learn to stop playing Zelda at four am on a Sunday, Matt?" He questioned, rhetorically.

"When will you learn," Matt started, lifting a hand over his mouth as he yawned, "to stop waking me up three hours before classes start?" Mello rolled his eyes; Matt could be snippy, but he wasn't good at come backs when he was sleep deprived. It wasn't_ too_ often, but often enough, regardless.

The two went to breakfast; sitting at their usual table. Mello was trying to get his breakfast in before Near showed up to ruin his morning; he was two years older than the brat, and he was still second. It irked him a lot, but it irked him even more because of his age. Mello had turned seventeen exactly a month ago. It was mid-January, and Mello didn't have a lot of time in order to get ahead of Near. All kids in Whammy's house were sent off for their future at age eighteen, at the latest, and if he didn't prove himself to L soon, then Near would most especially become his heir.

That was it; he had eleven months precisely, and if he didn't win, all his efforts would be futile. He didn't want that, dammit! He worked too hard in order to fall behind a stupid brat that still played with toys! He had to find a way to get ahead of him before his eighteenth birthday. Otherwise, he would forever be second to his rival.

They managed to finish before Near got in line, quite thankfully, but Mello could still feel the boy staring at him as he left. "Good morning, Mello, Matt." Mello grunted in response at the typical tone Near had been speaking with for years. He wasn't going to deal with Near right now, he was going to get to class and prove how much better he was.

Mello and Matt separated to attend different classes. Matt was probably going to fall back asleep in his global history lecture while Mello went to physics class; a textbook propped up in his hands, and a chocolate bar in his mouth. It helped him concentrate, and chocolate normally allowed him to forget his competition and just study in order to simply prove himself.

He sat down in his desk and stayed like that until a few hours later, when class started. The teacher, although didn't like Mello's tongue, was thankful at the fact he was interested in his studies and made a great amount of effort in his classroom. As much as they mutually hated each other personally, they could tolerate each other professionally, so long as Mello didn't have an outburst. And since most of the kids in the class knew better than to provoke the blond, the man's class was always quiet. And if people whispered or did something to break either his or Mello's concentration, the class knew trouble would come with it.

The class was meant to last two hours long, and they were barely halfway through it. Mello and the teacher were having a bit of a debate about one of the equations up on the board when a knock came at the door. They stopped bickering as the door opened; Roger, the housekeeper at Whammy's, stepped through the door and looked directly at Mello. "Grab your things, Mello, and come with me," he ordered, neither angry nor annoyed.

Confused as to why, Mello reluctantly grabbed his things and left the classroom. Once outside the door, he noticed Matt was standing with Roger as well; his bag also in his hand, and he was much more awake than earlier (probably from a nap). They walked on with Roger; both giving the other a look that first questioned what was going on before making another expression that told the latter they didn't know.

"Roger, what the hell is going on?" Mello half demanded, but kept his voice at an inside-volume. This was the guy who controlled the chocolate supply, and Mello wasn't going to upset him and risk losing his number one food in the entire orphanage. It had happened once as a punishment, and Mello made it his job to not get in as much trouble to ensure that consequence again.

Roger didn't answer. Instead, he stepped into Arabic 101, where the children inside were learning the language as well as the many cultures. "Near, grab your things," He ordered, waiting patiently for the boy to come out.

Once done, Roger closed the door as Near set his eyes on the others. "What's the occasion?" He asked, a bit puzzled (for once).

"No fucking clue," Mello answered briefly, a tad bit annoyed that his question wasn't answered already.

Roger still didn't reply. He simply motioned the boys to follow him until they reached the corridor that had all three of their rooms. While Mello's and Matt's were across from each other, Near had the one at the other end of the hall. Roger stopped there before looking down at the three of them. "L called," he started, getting all three to jerk their heads in his direction as well as getting their full attention, "He didn't explain why, but he's going to be landing in Winchester within the next six hours in order to pick you three up. He said it important that you come with your bags packed for at least a few months, and that you board on his flight to France immediately after." He explained further.

Nothing more was said, and nothing had to be said. The boys left for their rooms, getting their bags packed while wondering what L had planned for them. Whatever it was, Mello was trying to be hopeful in the situation. If they were traveling with L, that meant there might be a chance to prove that he is a better successor than Near. There didn't seem to be much any other reason but a test, and Mello was determined to ace it.

So, his luggage set full to the brim, Mello walked out of his room, joining Roger and Matt before Near came walking up to them. With that being done, Roger led them outside where three cars were waiting, due to the amount of luggage they had to bring. The three of them got into one; allowing their chauffeurs to pack their luggage before driving them to the airport to meet L.

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_**Okay, a decent start, I think. Hopefully not too bad with the characters (feel free to correct me), and I'm sure you noticed that this story is centered around Mello. Each part of Choosing is meant to focus around one of the three possible heirs L has. The first is Mello, quite obviously. I'm not sure if Near or Matt will be next, but I will be working as diligently as my schedule will allow on this story.**_

_**Thanks for reading, guys!**_  
_**~ K. Fang-sama**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Okay, Chapter Two. Thanks to all of those who have read! Now, let's proceed, shall we?**_

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Choosing

**Part I:** "Place You Face"

_**Chapter Two**_

Mello tapped his foot anxiously; munching on more of his chocolate as they awaited for L's plane to land. Many would observe Mello's stance and confuse it for impatience, but in truth, Mello was nervous. Next to his age and the obvious fact he'd be moving out of Whammy's House soon, as well as the placement as L's heir, Mello was nervous about what they were doing there; what L had in store for them. The genius was always thinking ahead about something, and the blond was sure that they weren't just brought out there for a friendly hello or a family vacation. And as far as he was concerned, the others knew the same thing, which was why the other two had said nothing.

In the next two hours (which felt like days to Mello), a man with combed back brown hair: Charles, he learned, led the three of them to L's private, luxury jet. They didn't ask Charles why L wanted them, for if Roger didn't know, then the only other person who did know was Watari, and the man was with L, constantly.

They boarded the jet and took their seats; Near and Matt on the couch while Mello sat in the chair across from L's. Said man was in his usual sitting position, eating some strawberry cheesecake that Watari had brought him. Charles stood on the opposite end of the room between two others; a younger gentleman named Dexter and man about ten years younger than Watari, James. All three were dressed in black suits and stood firm; the same way Watari stood, always. Said man had just come in from the kitchen area on the jet; giving the four geniuses a water bottle before ordering the men to fasten their seat belts so they can launch.

They did so, and the plane took off within minutes. After a few minutes in the air, they unbuckled themselves, and Watari went to get the other three treats for the plane ride. After serving Mello more chocolate and the other two some sweets, L cleared his throat; getting the attention of everyone else there. "I'm sure you've all ready deduced why I brought you three out of classes." L stated, taking another fork full of his cake.

Near let out a slight snicker before stating: "Clearly it's meant to test us; there would be no other reason for you to do so. And since we're on the topic, I take it this is the one where you finally choose between us." Near stated more than asked; a smirk on his face. Mello had to keep his neutral expression through in order not to feel intimidated. He couldn't afford to look so insecure; not in front of his mentor. Especially if the test was what Near had thought.

"In a sense," L responded, putting his plate on the coffee table in front of him before looking at the three with his large panda eyes. There was a bit of a pause before L gave him the closest look to serious he could pull off in his usual sitting position. "The original plan was that I choose from you three as it stands, now. Your grades would have allowed me to do that, if I based my choice solely on that. However, it's not."

L paused, taking a sip of his water. Mello felt the closest thing to relief at hearing that. He was still in second, after all; knowing his grades weren't the deciding factor put a bit of stress off his shoulders, if only a little. "Naturally," L started up again, capping his bottle, "it also depends on your skills, however, they vary greatly, and you're all extremely capable, as I've seen in your last few examinations of police reports."

Again, more relief; Mello was really starting to feel a bit better. Being tied was better than being second at this point, that's for sure. "I decided," L started, beginning to stampede on Mello's confidence, "that my heir should not only be someone who can provide their great mind to solve any police report, but should be the one who could live up to my own personal standards." Mello mentally cringed at that; no doubt he was losing there. "And as it stands," L finally said, a sour expression on his face, "None of you can live up to them."

And that was the hardest blow to the gut he had faced in all his years of living. They had done a lot of training for this position, to hear L wasn't satisfied after so much effort was both frustrating and worrisome. He didn't understand. What was he saying? He must have voiced this question, for soon, L was staring directly at him and replied: "Each one of you has a flaw that makes it impossible for me to allow one of you free reign as my heir; therefore, I've installed this new test to handle them, accordingly."

Mello looked up just in time to see Charles next to him; handing him a large, manilla envelope. The blond took it and felt its weight; only taking a few seconds to process its contents, eyes wide with shock. L couldn't be serious. There was no way-!

He turned to Near and Matt and saw they also had envelopes; Near's was black and Matt's was white. They were all the same size, and by the looks of things, probably weighed about the same. "In your hands," L started again, "is a case file. Each from a different department in different countries of the world."

They stared at L once more. "I've picked these cases for you because I knew they could challenge your minds. However, I also picked them because I knew there would be a chance to purge your flaw and make it easier to choose a proper heir." The three glanced at each other quickly before turning back to the man. "It doesn't matter how long it takes for you to crack the cases; I only expect the job to be done diligently and to ensure the correct culprits are caught. No doubt, they will test your limits, I'm sure."

Mello looked at the envelope in his hand. His own case? L would have all three of them work through his case files to test their abilities to see what he knew, but he never let them go out on their own and work with the police. Surely not on a high profile case where screw ups couldn't be afforded. But this was different; they were older and smarter, and they had the opportunity to prove they worth being L's heir. It was the first _real_ chance any one of them has ever gotten. And Mello would be damned before he let Near show him up, again.

Looking back at L, he continued: "Once we land in France, we'll be separating. I'll be driven to my accorded hotel, where I'll continue working on my current case. Near, you'll be leaving with James on the next flight to Australia." The albino nodded once; looking up at James for a few moments before turning his attention back to the group.

"Matt, you'll leave with Dexter on the next flight to China." Matt, head focused in for a change, nodded solemnly before looking at Dexter; no doubt wondering if the man were truly as capable as Watari.

"And Mello," the blond seemed to have sat slightly straighter when L looked at him. The pressure was on again, worse than before. But still, he remained neutral in the face as L spoke to him. "You'll remain on this plain and head to Ohio." L shifted a little in order to gaze at all three of them. "Now, your instructions."

With their heads turned in his direction, the three nodded in order to allow L to continue. "That case file you each hold is yours to look at after we've separated. You will not have any communication through each other unless it's through me. You'll all be using your letters to communicate with the public, but go by your aliases with the task force assigned to you. I'll call you three using my laptop to check your progress from time to time. Other than that, you're on your own."

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_**Hope you like it so far. Again, I'm sorry if the characters are off or something, but it's still the first time I'm doing Death Note. Bye, guys!**_

_**~ K. Fang-sama**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3! I am having fun with this thing, damn! Aw well...here we go!**_

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Choosing

**Part I:** "Place Your Face"

_**Chapter Three**_

Mello sat on the jet; waiting patiently for the others to leave. L nodded a goodbye and Matt and Near wished him luck before leaving. If L hadn't been within ear shot, he would have yelled at Near for his cocky attitude. But still, Mello continued to restrict himself. He was better than Near, he told himself, and yelling at the albino before the biggest assignment in his life was not going to be a good start.

No, Mello needed a clear mind in order to handle the case right. L would never give them such a simple case; it was always going to be a challenge. He didn't even know what he was going to be up against, but he was willing to bet something big. Bigger cases could have an obvious answer with no evidence, or a lot of evidence with no exact lead on who it could be. That's typically how these cases went; at least, the ones Mello and the others were allowed to look at. He had to keep reminding himself that L's seen a lot of things in his life that, compared to what he allowed the three possible successors to see, was probably nothing.

So, as Mello got himself re-buckled so they could take off for Chicago, he knew one thing with certainty; L didn't choose something the three of them would be familiar with. To be familiar with something meant there was an obvious pattern or signs of comfort, and L even admitted that the cases were meant to test their limits as well as purge a "flaw" he saw in each of them. As much as it hurt to be reminded of it, Mello felt more determined to prove himself.

Once they were in the air, he told Charles what he wanted to eat: a chocolate chip muffin with a hot chocolate as well as a piece of the death by chocolate cake Watari had left them. Charles was a bit caught off guard, but still got Mello's order without complaint. Considering he had been spending some time with Watari and L, the blond concluded that this was done so the three could be trained in order to get them what they needed; no matter their odd food habits. Good thing too; Mello didn't want to bicker with the man about his diet, it was aggravating.

So, after he was served, Mello decided to open the envelope and start reviewing over the case file. He took out the large file filled to brim about a "Shroud" which was, no doubt the name the public gave the fiend for whatever it was he was doing. Mello took a look at the case file, biting into his muffin before allowing his eyes to widen in shock of the first set of news clippings present. "Bomb at Britleon's," it was titled.

He was shocked to say the least. A bomber? L was trusting him to find a bomber wreaking havoc in the city? This made the blond feel proud, almost. Bombers typically had reasons for their crimes; either a reaction to someone who was dear to him or a cause of some kind. That's what it normally was. On that note, Mello wasn't all too impressed by the case.

But then, Mello read a bit more about the bomber, Shroud, and what exactly he was doing. He used very special bombs; stable enough to handle being shaken around, considering all of the places that were blown up were open to the public and the fact that not only was it well concealed, but he most likely walked into the buildings; leaving no trace of his travels through taxi fairs, trains, and everything else. There weren't many pieces they could find of the bomb, either, meaning the guy was careful enough to not leave anything behind from his contraptions. And of course, there came the hits, themselves. Five restaurants, two stores, three clubs, and a movie theater. The body count totaled up to sixty-two, and four remained hospitalized and in critical condition. Far too critical for doctors to even allow the patients' own families to see them, let alone the police.

He was stunned. No request, no anger; calculated chaos in order to spread panic across town. The bomber's longest cooling off period was four days, and the shortest amount was two hours. He had been at large for ten days now, and all the police knew with certainty was that this guy had to be within a mile of the vicinities before blowing them up. Yet even then, with all the surveillance footage, there wasn't anything obvious they could make out about the bomber. That meant that he either compromised the cameras, or he really knew how to duck and cover away from them. And there was no obvious way of knowing who was who, for it seemed Shroud had a thing for leaving with a small group and not by himself.

Okay, he admitted it, L did give him something worth a challenge. There weren't any suspects and there was no pattern, meaning Shroud probably chose his next target at random. How and when the next one would take place had no obvious answer. And obviously, this guy was being extremely careful and made sure he wasn't spotted. The real question became who he was and how could Mello track him down? This was an atypical case, no doubt one that piked L's interest. In fact, it wouldn't surprise him if the ones Matt and Near got were ones that interested the ebony. Those types of cases didn't come up often, but when they did, L normally reserved them for himself. This also meant L looked a bit into it before assigning them to it.

Mello smirked. _Interesting choice, L..._

His plane landed in Ridge City, Ohio somewhere past noon, and the jet lag had just started to get to him. It'd be mid-afternoon back home, and school would have been over. Meaning Mello wouldn't begin to feel tired until mid-morning, here. Wonderful. The blond sighed; envying L for his insomnia, considering he could stay awake through it. But then again, the man was what? Ten years older than him? And he's been investigating crimes for a long time already, so the insomnia was most likely caused by the things the man had seen.

As the blond waited for Charles to bring the car around, he took a look at the city before him. It concealed a many mysteries, he could tell. Despite the city being relatively clean, it was still covered in the grime known as greed, power, poverty, and of course, crime. Mello didn't like these types of places in all honesty, but they kept him on his toes and kept his eyes wide open. Places like this, anything could happen. At any given time and you wouldn't know when, or what was going on when it happened (less you were keen to your surroundings). All you'd know was that you were in deep shit one way or another; especially if you didn't react or couldn't defend yourself.

Mello let the shiver run down his spine at the thought. It wasn't something he enjoyed thinking about; it only made him think about his past and how it was that he came to Whammy's House. Another shiver came. The blond had faced his monsters in Russia; they were gone now, but the old feeling from when he was a child never left him. The need to be alert, always; everyone was guilty until proven innocent, and he was determined to put the scum of the world where they belonged.

The car came round the curb and Charles stepped out. Mello left the man to put his bags in the car and took his seat in the back. The blond got into his standard sitting position and waited for Charles to get back in. Once done, the two drove off to the hotel where Mello would operate from.

They arrived in thirty minutes before heading up to the tenth floor, Room: 1079. There was a fake sense of hominess there like all hotels seemed to carry with them. The bright green walls were a bit of an eyesore for Mello, and the master bedroom's ten linens did not make him feel happy. If he succeeded L, Mello knew that he'd have to get used to the idea of being in hotels often and ignoring the features he despised, which was probably why he was given such a hideous room. Thankfully they had bright paintings in red to help contrast it and make him feel a bit more comfortable.

Charles unpacked Mello's suitcases first before going to unpack his, seeing as how L made it apparent they'd be there for awhile. All the while, Mello was sitting in his standard position on one of the black chairs in the main area (another feature he appreciated) while skimming through the file in front of him, as well as looking through the laptop provided to him in order to view over any updates on the case. Since their wasn't another bombing (thankfully), the police hadn't dug up anymore evidence on Shroud. And, with a better view on how in shambles the places were in the winter weather, Mello wasn't all too surprised, but frustrated still.

A nap was in order, he decided. He sat awake on a plane for nine hours, probably a bit longer, and he wanted to be awake when he met up with the task force the next day. So, closing the device and resting the file on top of it, Mello went to his room; telling Charles that he wanted to have a meeting with the task force the following afternoon at one. Getting a nod from the man, Mello went into the bedroom, got changed, then went to sleep mulling over the case in his hands.

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_**I've got a lack of reviews here...how depressing. I hope this doesn't continue, otherwise I'll have to stop like I did with my other ones (fellow readers weren't happy with me). So, please review, and until then, I'll be seeing ya!**_

_**~ K. Fang-sama**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Okay, thanks to everyone who's been reading and if you've reviewed; I love ya for it! So, here we are, chapter four!**_

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Choosing

**Part I:** "Place Your Face"

_**Chapter Four**_

Mello woke up around ten o' clock; having taken in three more hours of sleep than he thought he needed. At first he was confused as to where he was, but after a bit of thinking, he remembered the bombing case that was on his new laptop and forced himself out of bed. He got ready the way he normally would for school, though without Matt to talk to or the textbooks to carry. Not that he minded, though; the case file and Charles made for appropriate substitutes- for now, anyway.

So after a shower and drying his hair, Mello went and ate breakfast that Charles had prepared: chocolate chip waffles with nutella and a glass of milk. It wasn't a chocolate bar, sure, but any form of chocolate with a meal was great as far Mello was concerned. This showed greatly since he was actually able to listen to Charles as he spoke for a change (if he had spoken before, Mello really didn't notice).

"I think," Charles started, "you should start by making contact with the commissioner of RCPD: Kenneth Riley. He is supplying the task force for us to meet here, but he was hoping to speak with you first about the team and some other matter."

"What do you mean: "some other matter," Charles? If it's something of importance, he should have told you." Mello stated before taking another bite of his breakfast. He hated being the last to know something, especially if the matter was of great importance.

"I know sir, but Commissioner Riley thought it better he speak with you directly on the issue. Stating it being too serious to just pass on to you." Charles replied, a frown on his face and his eyes shut. No doubt, Mello thought, that he had heard of the blond's reputation up at Whammy's and didn't want to face him when being upset.

Sighing, Mello said: "Fine," before returning to his breakfast. Although a bit dumbfounded, Charles was relieved to see that Mello wasn't angry at him, yet. "And Charles," the blond called, a serious expression on his face, "my future is in detective work whether I become L's heir or not; that being said, you should know that you'll probably be accompanying me through those cases. I'd recommend you start getting used to me or quit while you're ahead, otherwise, we will have a hard time dealing with each other."

Nodding once, Charles went to set up the equipment required to speak with the commissioner. Like L, it was a computer with a microphone that had a voice changer built into it, as well as a one-way video feed. On the other end of the screen, the recipient would only see a Gothic M on the screen, and would only hear a cryptic voice talking to them. Mello took in the communication system, thinking of the best way to follow up with it; L had convinced the world that he was the smartest mind in the world from behind a computer screen most of the time. The way he had done this was not only supplying his own views on the case, but also making it apparent that he was smarter than the police through the conversations, and ten times more observant than they made him out to be. That being said, Mello knew his first behind-the-screen conversation had to display the same wit and intelligence as his mentor.

Contrary to popular belief, Mello was very aware of his temper and that he occasionally didn't think logically if he let his emotions get the better of him. Granted, the teen wasn't getting much better at it, he knew moments that required thought were times he'd have to take deep breaths, count to ten, and all of the other shit in order to keep himself under control. If the commissioner had reason to doubt his intelligence, that could possibly mean being booted off the case and losing his shot of being L's heir.

So, the blond collected himself first before predicting any questions or predicaments that the commissioner could bring to his attention and coming up with attentive answers that would display a similar level of intellect as L. Once he went through all he could think of (which was a lot more than guys of his temperament are capable of taking), he signaled Charles to connect him to the Commissioner and to turn on the voice changer.

At seeing the office on screen, Mello waited for Kenneth Riley to notice. The man had his back turned to his desk and he was speaking with a few men about some irrational behavior they were presenting. One of them was blabbering a bit; having noticed that Mello had made contact but the commissioner was having none of his "tomfoolery." Getting frustrated, Mello asked Riley: "If this is the way you handle someone trying to give you information, Commissioner, my business would be better off elsewhere."

Kenneth Riley froze at the cryptic voice at the other end of the line, but he soon turned to the screen; a nervous smile on his face. "Ah, M," he spoke, chuckling nervously, "I wasn't expecting you for a little while; my apologies for being distracted."

"It doesn't matter now." Mello spoke again, brushing it off. "You said you had something you needed to discuss with me? Is it relevant to the case, or is it some other nonsense?" He questioned the male, repressing his annoyance to the best of his ability. _"Stay calm,"_ he kept chanting, mentally.

"I'm not so sure about that." He stated. Mello remained quiet; waiting expectantly for the man to continue. Standing, the commissioner reported: "At seven this morning, a man named: Nicholas Heshnor, age twenty-five, came in and asked if he could speak with me and the other detectives on the Shroud investigation. Naturally, we allowed it and sat him down. He said a girl came up to him this morning while he was taking a walk in the park just three blocks from here. She handed him an envelope, saying that a detective named: M had to see it immediately or else she feared more people would die."

Mello's eyes went wide. How did a girl know he was here? He hadn't made his arrival public and L had only informed the police about it. How did she get her hands on one of his aliases? There were only so few other people who were meant to know at this point in time, and these people weren't included. "What was in the envelope?" Mello chose to ask, deciding it better his frustration remained unknown to the man.

"I don't know; Heshnor wouldn't hand it over until he was allowed to hand it to you. Said something about promising the girl to do so." Riley stated, a sour expression on his face. "Harrison, my captain who's heading the investigation, didn't bother to detain it from him, either. He thought the investigation would go more smoothly if he spoke with the man and tried to convince him that we wouldn't open it until he went to meet you. It hasn't been going well." The man added, not happy with his subordinate's decision.

Mello took a breath; letting his mind clear before he did something he'd later regret. _"No temper on the mic,"_ he told himself, _"You can be strict, you can gloat where it's fit, but don't go about making yourself seem unstable."_ Having this inner feud seemed to have helped, since Mello went about asking Riley: "Bring in your captain, and Heshnor while you're at it. I wish to speak with them on my own." The man nodded and ordered his men to retrieve them.

They left, and all the while, Mello went through what he was going to say next. He had questions to be answered and orders to make. They were going to be answered and followed. Hopefully, it would give him a lead on who was behind all of this, and this mystery girl seemed to be his best chance at the moment. If it was relevant, he could profile Shroud and narrow down who this guy was.

Harrison walked in with Heshnor. The captain seemed to be well-kept; a clean shaven man with short black hair and bright white skin. He wore a simple brown suit on his average build, and his eyes were darker in color than they were in spirit. They read of a man who put a good amount of faith in humanity; a bit too much, in Mello's opinion, but thankfully not enough for it to cloud the man's judgement. This was probably the reason the man was assigned to the case; he seemed reasonable enough, at least to a certain extent.

Nicholas Heshnor was a fair young man. A man of early twenties that had a surprisingly genuine and kind air to him. One that held up a sense of honor but also one of ignorance, at least to a point. The black hair and alarmingly blue eyes were much more perplexing to how he held himself. The man in a pair of brown boots, blue jeans and green sweater had his eyes rested on the screen where the giant M was circling.

Noticing this, Mello spoke again. "Nicholas Heshnor, Captain Harrison, I am M; I work for L. I am told you have something for me, Mr. Heshnor." The blond stated, waiting to see the man's reaction. The younger ebony stood firm and nodded at him with a serious expression of his own. "Commissioner Riley, do you have any evidence bags in your desk?" The latter nodded. "Good. Take one out and hand it over to your captain."

He complied; handing over the object before returning to his desk. "Captain Harrison, I understand you have promised Mr. Heshnor that you'll be hand-delivering me the envelope without looking into its contents." A nod. "Then you won't mind sealing it in that bag once Mr. Heshnor puts it there. To prove your point as fact, Mr. Heshnor will be permitted to stay here and make sure the envelope doesn't go anywhere until you leave to meet me at one this afternoon. Can you oblige to that?" Again, a nod. "Mr. Heshnor, let it be noted that the captain will be the one in possession of the envelope until he comes here. Once that's done, I'll be looking at the contents myself. If I discover otherwise, I can promise this department that neither I nor my colleagues will offer our assistance again should they breach that confidence; this includes L."

It took a few minutes for the man to allow it to sink in, but once it did, Heshnor took the envelope from his pocket and put it in the evidence bag. Once done, the captain sealed the bag and properly labeled it. "Good, now if yo two would be kind enough to sit down, I ave some questions for you, Mr. Heshnor." The younger ebony nodded and took a seat; the captain taking the chair opposite of him. "Thank you. Now Mr. Heshnor, where and when were you approached by this girl?" He already knew half the answer he wanted, but he decided to start off simple in order to keep the man comfortable.

Sighing, Heshnor answered: "Well, it took about fifteen minutes to get here and a couple extra to get through security. I'd say around twenty of seven, give or take a few minutes. I was in Rayzer Park, taking a walk like I do every morning. Somewhere around that time was when the girl came up to me." He answered.

Mello held back his snickers; people who were questioned by officials tend to babble off about other things related to the topic even when they weren't asked the question directly. This allowed room for observation, as well as being able to pick up lies should they change their story down the road. "Did you get this girl's name, or some form of description?" He continued.

"She said to call her Reign, gave me the envelope, and told me it was important that you received it. Her tone made it sound important despite the fact she kept her head down and that her body was covered head-to-toe. She had the hood of her coat pulled over and a scarf across her mouth; like she didn't want me to see something."

Reign, huh? Well, she most definitely had the air of someone trying to hide something by the man's description, and normally people who had something to hide were either criminals or victims. Judging by the way this girl was acting, Mello presumed the latter, although he did allow room for doubt, depending on what the letter might say. "Is there anything else you can remember about her? As of now, anything is relevant." He told the man.

Nicholas seemed to have thought over a bit before snapping his fingers. "She was carrying something over her shoulder."

This piked Mello's interest. "A bag of some kind?" He assumed. If she had a backpack or something, then the letter could be a challenge of wits for him to find her and bring her to justice.

The man shook his head. "No, a carrying case. It wasn't a purse, but it seemed like one you'd put an instrument in." He explained, simply.

Mello smirked. That could explain how the bomb could handle travel so well. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Heshnor. I'll have the department contact you again if I have any further questions. Captain Harrison, I look forward to meeting you later." And with that, Mello disconnected the conversation.

* * *

_**The longest chapter so far! I do hope you guys are having fun with this (I sure am)! Anyways, there's a poll up on my profile regarding the series. If you're not gonna review, then please do the poll. I look forward to seeing you later!**_

_**~ K. Fang-sama**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Okay, time for chapter five!**_

* * *

Choosing

**Part I:** "Place Your Face"

_**Chapter Five**_

It was high time Mello met the rest of the task force he was going to be working with. He was certain that because of his age that he'd get some pretty skeptical stares when they learned who M was. All the same, the blond ignored the stares to the best of his ability; this was probably something L got a lot, also, and Mello was determined to prove he could handle the pressure that came with it.

He took the opportunity to take in the other five that Charles had introduced him to. First was Detective Carlton Granger. He was a stout man, almost as old as Captain Harrison. The man in the blue suit had gray hair also, and had dark green eyes that stared down at Mello in disapproval. He was the type of man that only allowed so few people order him around, and was now more than reluctant at being in the room.

Then there was Detective Carol Dawsen. The woman had long, golden strands of hair that almost made Mello envy her- almost. She had dark brown eyes, however, and nice figure. This woman obviously in her thirties was also strict, and she seemed to have just as much of a hard time accepting who he was as Granger was. However, the way she stood stated her job came before anything else, and his age didn't have anything to do with it so long as he proved to her he was as good as he was claimed to be.

Next came Sergeant Kale Keilsen. The man was, for lack of a better term, more uppity than the rest of the group. The lack of belief was due to age, nothing else. But other than that, this brown haired, orange eyed sergeant seemed much more accepting of Mello than the rest of the members of the group, despite being only five years younger Granger.

Another woman stood with them. Inspector Amy Just. She looked in her early twenties, but rank read that she was older. By how much, Mello was not going to dare try to speculate. The woman had rather tan skin; curly brown hair and black eyes to go with them. Out of the five, Mello felt her to be the most intimidating, and that's because the woman made sure to present only what she wanted Mello to notice; anything outside of that, she hid well. And women who weren't fools were extremely lethal, and considering how good of a shot she was, it fit.

Finally, there was Officer David Kampf. He was the most inexperienced of the group, and had a very serious nature around him. This told Mello that he most likely had four or five years on him and that he probably had just grown out of the phase of working yourself sick (all too literally). Still, the man was well-dressed and frowned down on him in disapproval. Matching ice-blue eyes as well as brownish-red hair framed the man, making him even less intimidating than Mello speculated.

The Captain was also staring; not all too sure what to make of the boy. There were several minutes of silence in which they stared at him. All the while, Mello glanced back and forth between them and the case file in his lap. Distracting himself was better than yelling at the task force, and it was a lot more productive.

Finally, several tense minutes later, Mello spoke. "When you're done gawking at me, perhaps you'd like to discuss the case and any conclusions I've made." He said, not bothering to hold back the fact he was annoyed. Seriously, all the time they spent staring at him could have been precious minutes they could be chasing Shroud, and he voiced this not too long after words.

"We're sorry, but..." Mello glanced up at the captain with a perked brow; not bothering to voice the question he knew was on the man's lips. "Are you truly M?"

He narrowed his eyes, but calmly stated: "Yeah, I am. But I would like it if you called me Mello while we're out in public. Hearing the name of L's co-worker doesn't make for good time investigating, but using it to dodge the media. Having my face on camera is not on my agenda." He took another bite of chocolate before nodding his head and insisted that they all sit down.

"So," Kampf started, not wasting time, "what have you concluded that we haven't thought up ourselves?"

Mello smirked. How stupid this guy was, really; this was a mental challenge. "Bombers need to have a certain amount of patience; especially one as efficient as the one on our hands. This means that he's intelligent, and most likely has a stable enough position in society in order for people not to suspect him. Because bombers are driven by some form of rage or mission, they can get sloppy at certain areas, but this guy seems to have more control of himself and plans his bomb sights accordingly. Time means nothing so long as he can walk around with his creation without drawing attention. The irregular cooling off period suggests that this is a rage bomber, however, his bombs have a purpose to him. This allows him the patience in order to learn where the security cameras and how to avoid his connection the areas. This suggests that this person has worked in some form of practice, or is too meticulous to want to get caught; although, the latter is highly unlikely."

Seeing their stares, Granger spoke. "What of this girl named Reign?" He questioned the boy.

"What about her?" Mello asked, honestly curious what the man could have theorized.

"She could be Shroud. With what Heshnor said, that envelope could just be a means in sending us a ransom in order to stop the bombing." He stated.

"It isn't." Mello stated without a second thought.

"How could you know?"

The blond rolled his eyes; shifting in his seat before resting his hands on his thighs (as he was in his standard sitting position). "If it were a ransom notice, why would it be sent to me and not the police? Plus, how does she even know I'm taking over for L? Commissioner Riley made sure that no one but you knew, and I know there haven't been any leaks in the press; I'd have known in advance had that been fact. The means of a messenger was simply that; it's a means of telling me she knows why I'm here and quite possibly might even know my face. Meaning someone had told her at some point of my arrival in advanced and at hearing I arrived, she set up for a messenger to communicate with me."

"How do you explain her veiling herself head to toe?" Just had asked him in all but curiosity. She wasn't minding the kid so far; in fact, he was making a lot of sense.

Mello shrugged. "Easy. Most girls are proud of their appearance, and from the notes your captain provided, this girl can't be older than eighteen and no younger than fifteen. For a girl of her age in this generation to cover their faces, it means they're ashamed of how they look in the mirror. It wouldn't surprise me if this girl is facing up against some trauma like the death of a relative or an abusive parent. Whatever the case may be, she doesn't want it to be seen in broad daylight. She'll reveal her face in place where there are shadows, probably, and will use the lighting in order to hide that truth."

He then turned to Captain Harrison. "Speaking of which, I'll take that envelope now, Captain." The man nodded; having remembered the promise he had made to Nicholas Heshnor before reaching for the item. The envelope was still in the evidence bag and was passed onto Mello, as promised. The blond took no time ripping open the item in his hands before grabbing the envelope out. The feminine hand-writing read: "To L's Associate," allowing Mello to predict a short list of people who knew where and when he was coming, and finding out who this girl made contact with.

He opened the envelope and took out the letter. Not seeing the point in leaving the contents a secret, he recited the girl's letter.

**"Hello!**  
**M, was it?  
****Or do you prefer Mello?**  
**You're a new face in an odd place**  
**I doubt you're here to stay**  
**With Shroud in town,**  
**No doubt you're after him."**

The team began to wonder just how the hell the girl knew of M's other alias, but Mello had none of it. This letter only confirmed the fact she made contact with someone he knew, and he had a pretty good feeling he knew who. So, sucking in another damn breath and counting to ten in his head, Mello continued:

**"I'm no idiot**  
**And neither are you**  
**But the police are fools**  
**That I refuse to speak to**  
**So since you're the only brains to the brawns**  
**I'll give you information**  
**You'll need to move on."**

The team stopped muttering; this time just listening intently to the oddly addressed letter.

**"I choose not to reveal my face**  
**In a hawk-eyed building**  
**When all you need is my statement**  
**If you're as smart as L claims**  
**You'll have no problem finding me."**

Mello felt his eyebrow twitch. So L set someone to meet him while on this case? He supposed he should be more surprised than angry, but considering L said that the three of them were flawed in one way, he assumed that this girl was supposed to take care of that somehow. Her little poem was already irking at Mello's nerves, so L's plan was in motion already, and the blond had only been there for a few hours.

**"I'll be across from a tower**  
**No matter where**  
**In a place of warmth and sweets**  
**I'll meet you there**  
**On the day with the coldest air**  
**At the hour most near**

**"When you enter, find a girl named Jessica**  
**Say you're meeting me and give her my name**  
**I'll be seated at the table**  
**With the best view of the room**  
**Until then, I say: Sayanara**  
**Sincerely yours,**  
**Leila"**

"Leila?" Kampf promptly questioned. "The girl's name was Reign. And how does she possibly expect you to find her?"

Mello shook his head. "Leila and Reign are the same person, Kampf." He started, rather bitterly at that. "As for finding her, that's simple. 'A place of warmth and sweets' is referring to the restaurants in town, and by the description, it's more than likely a cafe. 'A tower/No matter where,' is referring to a specific building that stands across the street from it. 'The day with the coldest air' isn't anything too hard to guess; you can get the date from looking at the seven day forecast. In other words meaning she wants me to meet her tomorrow. Finally, 'The hour most near,' is an old reference made in medieval times. There were four phrases that referred to different times of the day; twelve, three, six, and nine o'clock. The hour most near is three o'clock, and I doubt she means in the morning."

" 'I'll be seated at the table/With the best view of the room.' Sounds like she's taking a corner space away from the door." Dawsen commented.

"Wouldn't put it past her. She has valuable information and she doesn't want to be caught off guard while she's trying to relax. Besides, whatever it was she was hiding from Heshnor, it would be better hidden in the far corner; not one that's close to the windows." Mello added at hearing the woman finally speak. He gave the group an unwavering glance before speaking with them. "From this poem, she's made contact with L before sending this letter. That being said, I'll be meeting her on my own. Anything she has I will report to you as soon as I am able." And with that, Charles escorted the six out; not allowing for their protests.

When they were all gone, Mello grabbed the cushion he was sitting behind and flung it to the other end of the room. He was past fuming; if not for all of the things going on presently, he would have tried to strangle someone by now. The blond knew better, though. He had something to prove, and he wasn't going to let his temper ruin it for him, and he wasn't going to act until he knew he was calm enough. A perk of being a bit more self-conscious.

Letting out a sigh, Mello stood up from his chair. L was nine hours behind him right now and Mello was only allowed to communicate to him soon. "Charles, call Watari and tell him I want to have a conversation with L at six tomorrow evening, our time." Charles nodded once more and Mello went for the bathroom; feeling the need for a long, hot shower.

* * *

_**And that's five! I hope you guys are enjoying it as much as I am! I'll see ya next time (tomorrow or the day after if I keep this streak up).**_

_**~ K. Fang-sama**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Time for chapter six! I'm having too much fun to stop! :)_**

* * *

Choosing

**Part I:** "Place Your Face"

_**Chapter Six**_

The next day was a calm winter morning. Mello woke up in his room at a jet-lagged five am. A good few hours earlier than he was used to, but one he'd have to deal with for once. As he got ready, the blond thought over how he spent his day previous after the task force had left him.

He took his shower and stayed in there for a solid half hour. He had taken several deep breaths while inside; forcing his head to straighten out again so he could stay on task. The idea of L using a witness to try Mello's patience was a simple stratagem that the blond should have seen coming a mile off. It was obvious his temper was the main problem and that it affected both how he thought and how he acted without pausing in order to evaluate anything logically. How else could he be losing? This was the part of him that was affecting his work.

This was why Mello was doing all he could to contain himself. He knew his problem and he was going to prove that not only did he know there was something wrong, but that he was going to fix it. All of his effort was being put into extinguishing his temper and forcing logic and reasoning into his head. And where at times this was challenging, Mello had only lost it once, and that was when he was securely alone with Charles. And at realizing it, he promptly excused himself from work so he could cool off.

So, heading to his room and hearing Charles mumble, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that the man was reporting both on Mello's progress and his behavior; probably giving detail on how much different he was acting. Surely it counted that he made an effort to keep his temper from being known and that he made it his job to watch himself so he could catch Shroud faster, right? Mello was hoping so.

After getting changed, Mello had decided to find out where the girl wanted to meet him. She specifically said that she'd be across the street from "A tower/No matter where." All he had to do was locate all of the cafes in the city then find the one across from the building the girl was associating it with. It didn't take all too long, another twenty to twenty-five minutes, but Mello did manage to find a hotel by the name of "Nowhere Towers." And coincidentally enough, across the street from it was a restaurant called: "The Leather Bound Cafe." Said cafe was owned by a Miss Jessica Aykin, age: 28.

Doing his homework, the blond found out that Mrs. Aykin lost her husband in a car accident and her in-laws took her daughter away. The woman was having money troubles at the time, and they were made worse while she was battling for her child. Unfortunately, she failed to even get visitation rights. This predicament from five years beforehand had transformed her into a caring and loving woman who was very serious about the business she was running, and motherly over those she cared about. That being said, Mello had more than a good feeling that this woman Jessica was very close to Leila.

So, the day of the meet finally came. Mello was getting ready as he normally did and was trying to sum up what he'd be facing. He knew the date, time, and place of the meet, but he didn't know what this girl would do, or how she was going to present herself to him. He knew L had set her up in order to further annoy him on the case somehow, but he wasn't sure on how. But, remembering the riddle she wrote up for him to think over, Mello wasn't all too sure she was going to be straight forward with him.

They got the directions to the restaurant and left the hotel once it was twenty after two. With the traffic and the estimated time given to them by their map (they couldn't use a GPS; that would involve satellites, and satellites could be used to pinpoint their target and the people who'd find them wouldn't be friendly), they made it to the Leather Bound Cafe. It had a nice feel to it; the colors were rustic and created a calm setting around the place. The windows were large, and the place wasn't overly big.

Coming into the building, Mello noticed that the place wasn't packed, but had a decent sized crowd for the time of day. People in sweaters were sitting in black chairs and booths with copper cushioning and had nice mahogany tables. The staff (as far as he could see) totaled up to about twelve, not including the people in the kitchen making the food. They all wore blue jeans, a dull red t-shirt with the restaurant's logo on it and a name tag, as well as a brown apron. As the smell of coffee and sweets graced his nostrils, Mello couldn't help but feel much more relaxed in the building than he did outside (which said a lot).

"Hi! Welcome to the Leather Bound!" Mello's attention turned to the face he came to know as Jessica Aykin; shot brown hair and chocolate brown eyes among tan skin and a busty figure. She was dressed in a white dress shirt, white jeans, and nice pair of boots that she no doubt swapped with her winter boots before heading into the dining room. She had a warm smile on her face; the one a mother would give her child. Oddly enough, this didn't bother Mello as much as he thought it would; in fact, it barely did that, he didn't know why.

Regardless, Mello smiled at the woman and kindly responded: "Yeah, I'm looking for Leila!"

The woman let out a loud giggle; eying him with a sense of joy that was unnerving. "You must be Mello! Leila said that her boyfriend would be meeting her here, today! 'Bout time she found someone, too; that girl's been needing to expand her horizons. Glad she's found a cutey to fill the spot." The term caught Mello off guard, but he was able to keep the reaction hidden just barely. Clearly, Jessica wasn't in the loop about what Leila knew, and the girl had come up with a way to make the encounter between her and a boy Jessica had never met before seem natural. The girlfriend-boyfriend routine being the best option to her...

Either that or she was trying to push Mello's buttons further.

All the same, the blond nodded with a well-staged shy smile, despite the circumstances. "Yeah, um..." Mello's intentions were to make him seem like the nervous kind, specifically because he didn't know what he could say to Jessica otherwise. He wasn't as socially-retarded as Near, but Mello's never really had any form of relationship past friends, and that was with a select crowd. "Where can I find her?" He asked in the same tone, head lowering as he continued the act while at the same time able to hide his eyes that were starting to fume in frustration.

Jessica giggled, this time more quietly because of how "cute" Mello seemed to be. "Well, aren't you a sweetheart? Right this way." She said smiling, beginning to lead Mello to the girl he was looking for. All the while, Mello's face had a light shade of pink on it from embarrassment. He's heard of parents embarrassing their children before, and this woman had taken the liberty of being any kid's mother just by her nature. That alone made it easy for her to make him feel this way, despite the fact she both didn't know him and had just met him.

He looked up in time to see he was being led to the far-left corner of the restaurant. A girl was sitting in a booth; a brown bag on the floor and a black case sitting beside her. Leila, he figured, was sitting there in a lavender winter coat, slim, warm red pants and a set of black winter boots and a green scarf dangling from her neck. She had long, dark purple hair that almost went to her waist and doll-like, greenish-yellow eyes.

Despite the wild appearance, she had characteristics Mello couldn't help but compare to L. The first in being her sitting position; one leg was folded and hugged to her chest while the other folded leg sat against the cushion of the couch. The second was her skin tone; like L, Leila had succeeded in making her skin pale enough, it seemed as though the snow had more color than either of them. The third was her figure; there was not a doubt in Mello's mind that Leila was underweight, strictly because the coat she wore just seemed to be too big for her. Her large eyes also helped in this comparison, but it was the dark rings underneath them that really did it. Jessica either knew or thought of the rings to be make-up, although he doubted the latter.

"Look who's here, Leila!" Jessica announced with great enthusiasm. Leila blinked a couple times before turning to stare at her and Mello.

Staring a few moments, she graced them with an admittedly cute smile. "Mello!" Leila then stood from her seat and proceeded to hug the blond. "I'm glad you could make it! I was worried that chemistry project was gonna hold you up!" If Mello were any other fool, he would have thought the joy in her voice was real. But it was clear to him that she was acting just the same as he was, and did her best to make it look convincing.

He followed through with the act; wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close. Keeping up his own smile, he said: "I can finish that project later. I'd much rather be spending my time with you." He then kissed her forehead before letting her nuzzle into his neck.

That seemed to have put the cherry on top, for Jessica was staring at the adorable scene happily; letting out another light giggle as the two of the separated from each other. "Quite the catch, Leila! A hotty who knows how to be a gentleman and look good in leather. I'm impressed." A flush of embarrassment hit both of their faces, but Mello decided to keep up the act for the woman; eying Leila with his staged shy smile before grabbing her hand giving it a light squeeze.

Jessica was loving the scene, but she soon seated the "couple," as she handed them a couple menus. "Take it you've already thought of your drink while you were waiting, Leila?" She stated more than asked.

"Double chocolate mocha." She replied, leaning into Mello and looking lovestruck.

Jessica nodded. "And for you, hun?" She asked the blond who laid his head atop of the purplenette's gently.

Looking at the menu briefly, Mello looked up and said. "That double chocolate mocha sounds great, actually."

The woman smiled. "Two double chocolate mochas coming right up. I'll be right back with your drinks."

When Jessica was out of ear shot, Mello felt the warm smile on Leila's face morph into a wry smirk. Looking down, he noticed that she was looking at him with a pleased expression on her face. "Strange. With how L described your temper and your capability to think irrationally, I thought you'd be less convincing under the circumstances. Perhaps your more tame than he first thought; either that, or you've been containing that temper ever since you got to Ridge City." She stated in a tone all too familiar to Mello, just making him realize why L wanted the two of them to get in contact with each other.

She acted like Near.

Oh, joy. "Temper or no temper, it doesn't matter. I just need your statement so I can continue on the case and solve it." He retorted, keeping his face as neutral as he could muster and his voice only hinting annoyance.

"It does, actually. Acting on logic and acting on emotion are two different things and depending on the situation should depend on which one you should use. In the case of someone being injured, emotional logic says to sustain the injury and get the person help as soon as possible. When working on a case, that emotion gets you into trouble quickly, so you have to set them aside and make room for logic to come in. Seeing as how you've acted along with me and kept your temper hidden from me and Jessica, it tells me you're trying to make room for logic. It's admirable, but more self-control is required in your case." She shot back with ease.

"And logic runs your actions I take it?" He questioned rhetorically. "Tell me, how logical was it to give Heshnor the name Reign instead of Leila? Surely we'll be able to find you with your real name and your physical features."

She smirked this time around, almost sending a chill down Mello's spine. "You won't." She stated, getting back into her standard sitting position. "L has assured me that any searches used with my description will come up with nothing as apart of the arrangements we've made. As for the names, I suggest you stop acting so oblivious; you know fairly well that both names are aliases. As for giving Heshnor Reign, it was simple; that's the name he associates me with, although I wager he didn't remember me when I gave him the envelope."

"And how'd you know he'd follow through and not open it himself?" Mello asked.

The smirk morphed into a more kind smile. "Because, he's helped me a couple of times before." The blond only raised a brow. Smiling still, Leila picked up the black case she brought with her and opened it. Inside was a red violin and bow, a bit weathered but still beautiful in its wake. "I have two jobs; one of which that has me perform to draw attention for business outside. In my free time, I tend to street perform for extra money. Naturally, if one is by herself, she is to receive some unwanted attention. Nicholas Heshnor isn't a regular audience member, but he shows up enough to know there are people who won't leave me alone, and can at least insinuate their reasons. The man says something and he means it, so I didn't have to worry about him giving you the envelope."

Mello was about to speak again when Jessica came back with their drinks. "All righty you two lovebirds, what can I get ya to eat?" The woman asked in her eternally kind and giddy nature.

Leila's smile stayed as it was. "So you still have the soups and sweets combo?" She asked kindly.

Jessica placed a hand on her hip; a smirk of her own shining through. "Leila, that's all winter long and you know it."

Said girl giggled. "Okay then. Do you have anymore of that turkey stew of yours?" She asked.

"Comin' right up!" Jessica said, writing it down before looking at Mello. "What about you, Mello? You gonna have the combo too?" Mello only nodded. "What will it be then?"

"Beef stew, if you have that." He replied.

Nodding, Jessica took their menus. "You two are in for a treat," she guaranteed, "The sweets special is our chocolate-peanut butter truffles." Mello perked up at hearing that; chocolate sounded good (when did it not?), and hearing that was desert was up lifting on his turning-dour mood. So, with thank yous received, Jessica left them once more.

They drank some of their mocha, allowing for the quiet atmosphere to soothe them a bit before returning to business. "What exactly do you have, and how do I know if it's anything of use?" Mello asked seriously; placing his drink down calmly before turning one of his iciest stares her way.

It didn't seem to faze her in any way. Like with Near, even appearing daunted seemed next to impossible. "Well, one," she started, "L wouldn't have let me met you if he thought it was nothing. And two," she pointed at her violin, "my street performing allows me more than the ability to make a few spare coins or five dollar bills. As a performer, I get to observe the area I stand in and the crowds I perform to."

"So, you saw him one night." Mello concluded. No deduction was needed, she left it for him to pick out.

She nodded once. "Yes, I did. Made himself look like a tourist and carried a duffel bag over his shoulder before he entered the Kenjen Kitchen- bombing number two. I was out on the corner doing a finale piece when he walked out without said item. About fifteen minutes later- give or take a few minutes considering the boys who bothered me and the time it took me to pack up- I had walked away from my corner about ten feet before the explosion came."

"And you left because you didn't want your face on camera." He added for her, having remembered the line from her letter.

"Looks like logic's prevailing after all." She trailed off; her expression not faltering. Mello turned as she bent over for her bag. Once retrieving it, she removed its contents before handing it to Mello. It was a newspaper article dated back almost a month before the bombing ever started. Had this been one particular section of the newspaper, Mello would have seen it more helpful, but it wasn't and for three reasons. First off, all the sections of the newspaper were there, so any one article could be of importance and he wouldn't have a way of knowing with certainty. Secondly, it was an issue from December, which left Christmas articles as well as the advertisements thrown into its daily memorandum for that time of year. And as if that weren't bad enough, it was a Sunday paper; leaving even more ads and other shit to sift through.

He glared at the stack of papers. What kind of sick joke was this. "I can tell you with absolute certainty," Leila said, her smirk upon him still, "that Shroud's face so happens to be in one of those articles. I can't say which one because, well, I'm not the detective, now am I?" He then glared at the purple head and he was about to retort until she insinuated another assortment Mello hadn't expected.

Grabbing the collar of Mello's coat, Leila had pulled him closer to her before firmly planting her lips on his. He was caught off guard, but played into it when he heard her moving the paper that was on the table, probably to make sure Jessica didn't see. They had begun to make out a bit, Mello firmly pulling her closer by putting his arm over her shoulders, when the woman in question came back; staring with an open jaw before speaking again.

"_Aw_, you two are so**_ cute_** together!" She squeaked out; getting the two to separate and blush furiously as the rest of restaurant turned to stare at them. As the people inside began to gossip about the "cute couple," Jessica had placed their stew in front of them. They ate it in silence; waiting for people to stop staring at them so intently; you can't talk about something so sensitive when people were staring and trying to listen in on your conversations.

They made it through most of their meal before that time came. They still didn't speak, case Jessica came back to collect their bowls. Said woman returned, taking their bowls and mugs before handing them glasses of milk to go along with the truffles. They ate a couple, occasionally feeding them to each other to keep up the couple's act in front of Jessica, but remained silent.

Finally, ten minutes of feeding and acting later, Leila continued speaking. "Not to worry, you'll be able to make a suspect list off of it; and if you're really smart, you won't even hit the double digits." She said, popping another truffle in her mouth before taking another sip of her milk.

Mello, after taking another sip as well, looked at her with a strict expression. "You're obstructing justice by hiding Shroud's identity, you know that right?"

Leila only rolled her eyes. "I'm not. I just gave you his face. Besides, I'm making my guess based purely on what I saw and what I know about the suspects in that particular paper; I have nothing that guarantees who he is because it was dark and snowing. If I were to identify him now, all you'd have is my words against his. And even with the gender, I'm not even that positive." She told him with a rather serious expression of her own.

Fist tightening into a ball, Mello took a few deep breaths in order to calm himself down and not make a scene. It took a few minutes, but with the chocolate on the table, he quickly got his nerves at ease. So, after eating five or six, he asked with as much self control as he could muster: "If that's the case, then how do you know with certainty that Shroud's even there?" He questioned further.

Her smile returned; another thing upon her features that seemed to have reminded him of L, only her smile was more sad and her face was cuter to look at. She turned her head; eyes staring through her glass on the table. It was quiet for a few moments and Mello didn't know what to feel about it. All he knew was that her smile was bugging him for the wrong reasons this time around. He had the weird instinct to hold her or something but only stared at her in wonder.

Finally, Leila's voice shined through in a hollow, somewhat quiet sound that sent shivers down Mello's spine. "Put a face with a place, you'll find your way. Take a breath of fresh air, it's been a bad day. Put a face with a place, walk the streets without a care. Let the music run the night, keep and eye on those who dare. Put a face with a place, get the work done and over with. Make sure you're nice and warm, then go home so you can finish. Put a face with a place and be ready for tomorrow. Organize yourself right and you'll know where to go."

Blue eyes wide, Mello was shockingly silent. He didn't know how to interpret what the girl had said, nor did she give him time to. Leila rose with her violin case over her shoulder; kissing Mello on the lips once more before meandering around him and promptly leaving.

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_**Over three thousand! I do hope you guys are enjoying this, and I'll see ya in chapter seven!**_

_**~ K. Fang-sama**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Well, another chapter. Hope you like it!**_

* * *

Choosing

**Part I:** "Place Your Face"

_**Chapter Seven**_

It had been three days since Mello's encounter with Leila, and the blond teenager was frustrated to the point he had Charles drive him out of town so he'd end up punching trees and not people.

After Leila had left, Mello had to pay the bill as the ever-so-loving-boyfriend should. He took some more of those truffles to go and by the time he was back at the hotel, it was around 4:30. He immediately went through the paper that Leila provided in order to see what exactly she had in mind. Over an hour later, Mello found the articles that stood out the most and what they had in common; they were elections into office. More specifically, the three people who had maintained those positions were challenged by a group of three who had a great amount of respect in the city.

The positions were governor, city council chairman, and mayor. In that order was Anthony Gifford v. Kenya May, Sharon Marttis v. Zachary Mildreph, and Richard Leeward v. Thomas Reed. It was rather interesting since the governor and chairman- Anthony Gifford and Sharon Marttis- were pushed out of office by their opponents, and only the mayor-Richard Leeward- had remained.

Doing research, Mello found out that the election was critical on all of the candidates; damaging to the point the public were having trouble looking for an icon to trust. This made said election last months longer than it should have. Unfortunately, winner or loser, any one of them could be Shroud and Mello wasn't going to take any chances. So, he informed the police to pick them up the next morning for questioning and to send him the videos from interrogation.

Then there was the talk with L. Naturally, to avoid any and all forms of discovery, L's screen saver was the only thing Mello could see, and the same vice versa. They had to address each other by their letters as well, which irked at Mello a bit, but not enough for him to enforce it into the conversation. "So," Mello chimed as they just got started, "How exactly did you come across Leila and what made you trust her with my alias and face?"

There was a pause at the other end of the connection before Mello heard L chuckle lightly. "I didn't come across Leila at all; she specifically searched for me, was able to track me down and got into my hotel room the night before I was scheduled to fly out of the country. She's a clever and resourceful girl, truly. I trusted her in your hands for two reasons, the first I no doubt you've already deduced on your own. The second and most important reason was a combination of her twisted form of honesty, her deduction skills which are upscale considering her environment, and to the fact she approached me- not in the sake of tracking down a murderer- but for her own self-interests." He answered.

"Which are?" Mello didn't hesitate to ask. L didn't chuckle, sigh, or make any reaction. There was this long pause that dragged on forever and there was no doubt that L was probably staring at the screen with a look that would inform Mello that the answer was obvious to the ebony and it didn't require a lot of explaining on Leila's part to know her reasons.

He took the hint quickly; letting out a sigh before doing some quick deductive reasoning. "Am I to assume that this deal you made with her somehow involves me bringing her back to Whammy's House when this is over?"

"Are you?" Came L's replied in a humored tone that only confirmed the blond's suspicions.

Mello sighed at the thought. Bringing a female Near with him to Whammy's wasn't exactly an appealing idea, but Leila was only putting up with L and handing over the information with the guarantee she'll be allowed to leave the place she's at. "Did she give you the same clues she gave me?" He couldn't help but ask. Something told him that was a safe assumption; in fact, it wouldn't surprise Mello if L had deduced who the killer was and was only holding out so that the blond could sort through his little flaw.

"Yes, I told her that she had to provide me with the exact words she said to me in order to guarantee her relocation. She brought out a tape recorder and recorded our conversation with each other; just to make sure she remembered every single detail. She then asked me what you were like. I described you to her and showed her your picture. She then predicted how to get you to come meet with her and what questions you would ask her if she sorted out her thoughts right, but also allowed room for error. Once that was done and over with, she departed the way she came." He answered.

"And I take it she gave you a way to contact her for when she should get in touch with me." This was a statement, no question implied.

He could feel L's smirk as the silence dragged on. Under normal circumstances, this would annoy Mello immensely. But the blond soon found himself jamming the self-control suggestions Roger used to throw his way in order to keep himself collected. He settled for counting to ten in his head; L wouldn't hear a change in his breathing then and this allowed Mello to cool down. Just to make sure the method worked, he took in another bite of his chocolate bar to keep his mouth busy.

"Have you any suspects?" L asked him.

Mello swallowed his chocolate before answering. "Six. They're all being questioned as we speak. I already looked into the event Leila pointed them to; each candidate was severely humiliated during their campaign- enough to put a huge dent in how the public as well as their own colleagues view them. I can't say with absolute certainty which one did it until after I watch the interrogation footage, but the behavior of the bomber suggests it's more than likely one of the male candidates."

"Yet you still have the females being questioned?"

Mello chuckled. "Leila may have allowed room for error, but I'm not. I have to be absolutely positive or Shroud will most likely lash out in some way."

"And what makes you say that?" L asked curiously.

The blond only rolled his eyes. "This is a very calculative rage bomber, and his bombs have a purpose of some kind. If that purpose was somehow warped by accusing another person, more people will die." He stated with ease, swallowing another bite of chocolate. "I'm not going to get a higher body count up just because this guy's pissed off. I'm also not going to let stupidity or emotion from the law enforce that rage. He's already making a high enough body count and I'm not going to push him into a frenzy." He added, laying out the risks before L could question him about them.

He could still feel the man's smirk. "Sometimes risks are necessary, M." He commented.

Mello smirked. "I know, L," he said in a smug tone, "But one has to be smart enough to know where the line is drawn on such risks."

"Then you'll have no problem handling everything; including Miss Leila." And like that, L had signed off without another word.

That didn't fail to leave a dent in Mello; said teen sitting stiff in his seat with his pupils bug-eyed-wide as he began shaking with anger. Clutching his fists together and taking further deep breaths, Mello promptly stomped out of the room to take a long shower. He couldn't think straight on a case like this, he knew it, and he refused to try it. He was aware of his problems and he was going to get over them somehow. He just had to keep himself calm and keep his temper away from his work; he was in control, damn it! He had no reason to be angry.

Mello stood still under said shower head for awhile, thinking back to the purple-headed girl. He had noted she was both an insomniac and was underweight, so it was more than likely that Leila lived on her own in cheap residence, and starved simply because she didn't have the money for food. The fact the girl was so smart did suggest she was well-educated. Whammy's House was her chance to restart and she had interested L to the point he'd allow it.

Now that he thought of the girl's character, Mello soon found himself glaring at the bathroom tile. L would choose the one that reminded him of the one person Mello couldn't stand more than anything. The girl was calm, collected, always had an answer, always calculated everything, and she was a very devious creature. Every answer she gave him was for him to sift through and search for. Despite giving him everything, she had succeeded in veiling what she had found out and why? Because she was testing Mello about as much as L was. And right now, it was hard to stand his mentor doing that, let alone a girl who knew more about him than he'd like.

_" 'Put a face with a place?' That couldn't have been the first time she's said that to herself, especially seeing how gloomy she looked when she recited it. So what is so significant about it? Is it another clue or is it something she keeps telling herself?"_ Mello continued to drag on about the thought. Leila didn't seem all too happy when she brought it up. If anything, Mello was betting her smile was fake straight from the start and that it was plastered on so that Jessica didn't worry.

After awhile, Mello finally got out of the shower, dried himself off and got dressed. Upon exiting, Charles informed him that the surveillance footage from the interrogation had just arrived. The blond instantly was in front of his laptop with another chocolate bar being munched on as he got a front row seat at what "Ridge City's Finest" were truly like.

He began with Anthony Gifford. The man cursed more than any sailor Mello had dared looked into (which there were a few), and if anyone at Whammy's House thought his temper frightening, they'd all be soiling themselves if they heard so much as a sentence that this man had screeched throughout the first twenty minutes of his interrogation. After the man calmed down, though, he was a lot more civilized; letting out a frustrated sigh before explaining that he had been on vacation with his wife and daughter and didn't get back until four days beforehand. The police looked into it and found no irregularity to suggest that Gifford was was in the country when the bombing started, so Mello moved onto the man's opponent.

Kenya May was a sassy woman for lack of better terms. She was pretty and she was well-spoken, which explained why people were more comfortable with her in office. She was a bit smug and she did have tendency to drag things on that didn't fail to irk at Mello's nerves. However, he did pay attention to her alibi; her recently pregnant sister was staying with her while her husband was out of town on business and the woman went into labor three days later. The boy took twenty-one hours to give birth to, and Kenya May was by her sister past that point. It was listed that seven hours before said nephew was born was when bomb number six went off and doctors confirmed Kenya's presence, so she was out.

Sharon Marttis was next. The woman brought her lawyer and spoke with a dignified class and annoyed tone that worked well together- especially at annoying Mello further. The woman's alibi wasn't impregnable, as she claimed to have remained home for the most part with her cats while she only left for groceries or to go out with her friends. No alibi yet Mello highly doubted that this was the rage bomber he was looking for.

Zachary Mildreph came next. The man was at home each night by his claim and he didn't leave unless business called for it. A man in office was bound to be recognized and he was working hard. Just because he won didn't mean that he didn't have "business" involving the citizens' lives. Mello decided to watch him just to be safe.

Then came Richard Leeward- the current mayor, and Mello desperately wished he could punch this bastard in the face. He was smug, arrogant, cocky, and he didn't really care about the city. The man was either real power hungry or psychopathic, either one wouldn't surprise Mello. Regardless, Leeward also cursed at the police because of the accusations made against him and provided his colleagues to prove it.

Finally, there was Thomas Reed. Reed was a lot like Heshnor; honorable and kind. Out of all of the candidates, Thomas Reed was the one that showed his true colors to his audience with hope in his eyes and ambitions in order to make the city better. He had the same type of ignorance, especially considering he wanted to show people he wanted things to be better and decided to be the adult and not try and incriminate Leeward during the campaign. He openly admitted that he had no impregnable alibi for the time of the bombings but was more than willing to cooperate in order to prove his innocence.

Mello sat in his seat; eating his chocolate with a scowl on his face. This didn't help matters. He could point at Leeward for this with ease, but as the mayor there were a lot of responsibilities, which would provide unfortunate alibis. Mello really would have loved to put this guy in jail and give Thomas Reed full wing in the office. At least then the town may be better off. But, none of that was in his control. All he could do was work to find the murderer.

The next day, Mello spoke with Commissioner Riley and told him to get him a conversation with the six suspects.

Thomas Reed was first this time. He answered Mello's questions with honesty, spoke up when he was confused about what he meant, and answered as calmly as he could. When the questions about his goals came up, Reed explained what it was that he was hoping to do; going in depth about rumored rings that forced boys and girls into prostitution and how some of them already had records, the pollution buildup in their lake outside of town, not to mention redefining what put a person in psychiatric institution; speaking about teenagers with drug problems that needed therapy but didn't deserve to be sent off like a lot of kids were already. The blond smirked at his ambition and even wished him luck before inviting in Richard Leeward.

Not only was the mayor being a prick but he did what all politicians were trained to do; answer around the questions. Naturally, Mello pointed this out, but it didn't change much. After fifteen minutes of nothing new, he told the Captain to bring the mayor back when he was ready to answer straight and that he should keep an eye on him until then.

Kenya May and Carol Marttis were decent t speak to. They still annoyed Mello, but they answered his questions, regardless. It made little to no progress, so Mello was only left to his headache. He thanked them anyways for being cooperative.

Finally, Anthony Gifford. Mello avoided putting Shroud into the conversation until he was certain that Gifford thought he didn't suspect him of anything. The conversation was pleasant, surprising. However, like with the women, it showed nothing to be valued.

The rest of that day and the following one was spent trying to dig up more dirt on his suspects as well as going through Leila's conversation over again to make sure he didn't miss anything. Now the third day was here and Mello had nothing new to offer and his headache became pretty bad overnight. But, the worst of it came when Charles walked in while he was eating his breakfast with some very frustrating news. So, getting his coat on, Mello had stomped out of his hotel room; trying to maintain his patience as he and Charles left for their destination...

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_**I love this story! See ya!**_


	8. Chapter 8

Choosing

**Part I:** "Place Your Face"

_**Chapter Eight**_

The establishment formerly known as the Tapestry Diner looked worse up close than the others did in pictures. Mello had been successfully brought to the crime scene without anyone but the members of the task force to notice him. Said seven had informed their colleagues that both he and Charles worked for M and were only there to take pictures and get copies of the witness statements. It seemed strange to allow a teenager to work with a high-profile detective, but after seeing how much Charles was speaking with the teen, they assumed the boy to be an intern or trainee, so they let it go.

Meanwhile, Mello had a look around the building. Everything was destroyed and whatever wasn't was in shambles, knocked over, and burnt to a crisp. There were even bodies that were melded into the ground; some with all of their flesh gone, other still somehow having parts remaining. Mello had seen a lot with reading police reports for L, but this was the first time in a long time he felt the urge to vomit.

The blond shook his head. Now wasn't the time to feel sick. He had to investigate the crime scene and make sure nothing was glanced over. So he continued to walk; the snow piling up on him as he made his way across the vicinity. The snow was already ruining the crime scene and that meant hands on searching for anything that stood out. It was bone chilling that morning, which didn't help matters any.

Regardless, Mello had put on a pair of latex gloves over the gloves he already had on before getting on his knees; sifting through the snow for anything that might stand out. He could hear the officers laughing at him from the distance, but Mello ignored them; yelling at a group of police officers wasn't going to do him much good. He was still a teenager after all, and he couldn't claim authority by claiming to be M. Besides, fools like them didn't understand the importance of what he was looking for. No matter how small, any piece of evidence was a better lead than nothing at this point. Twelve bombing sights in just over two weeks wasn't good and Mello wasn't as close to catching Shroud as he would have liked.

Shivers ran through the boy's spine; frostbite coming about him as he thought back on his time in Russia. He had been in a similar position that day, doing something far less helpful to other people not to mention who he was doing it for.

The blond swallowed the bile that was rising up his throat. That day was a long time ago and long left in the past. The only kindness Mello earned the memory was the relocation to Whammy's House with a much more prominent future than what he would have been if he stayed in Russia. If not for that, it would have been scorned like many of those memories. But, that bit of kindness it earned because it allowed the blond to meet L and gave him a passion and a goal.

A small shimmer caught Mello's attention and he went to retrieve it. Picking up the object, he saw a dog tag that had barely survived. How it did to begin with was a mystery to him but he did notice something else. There was a phrase written on it. Most of which was melted away by the heat, but he was able to make out a few words: "for the better."

The letters were partially melted, but Mello could still read that one part. The adornment seemed to be there on purpose and judging by the fact it survived, was meant to be found. Whatever the message was, the motive would allow Mello to narrow down his target.

He let out a sharp whistle; holding up his prize as the investigators turned their heads to face them. After they took it, they promptly ordered the others do what Mello had started, making the teen smirk as the officers who were laughing before got on their hands and knees and began to search for more evidence. Mello stayed for about fifteen minutes longer, just to make his trainee position stick before allowing Charles to lead him off of the scene.

The first thing he did was take a warm shower and change his clothes; getting sick wasn't on his agenda and he had enough to worry about as it stood. After that, he left to think over the evidence he found. The statement was incomplete, but it did describe a clear goal set in mind. Whatever the reason be for the bombs, Shroud clearly thought it was "for the better" as he put it. "For the better of what, though?" Mello grumbled, eating some more of his chocolate as he skimmed through the candidates.

Their true colors differed from what they claimed they wanted for the crowd, excluding Thomas Reed. Without another word from that tag, Mello couldn't pin on who exactly it was since they all had different ideas on what made things "better" for the town and said item didn't give a hint as to why these deaths were so important. Another thing the blond couldn't quite pick up on. Theories came in abundance, but there was no way for Mello to stick one to them without more evidence.

Charles walked in not soon after, handing Mello another bar of chocolate before saying: "Commissioner Riley just called. It appears Nicholas Heshnor needs to speak with you again." Mello only nodded once before heading to the computer and microphone. Sitting himself down, Mello took a few calming breaths before connecting with the RCPD once again.

Like before, Mello found himself looking at Riley's office again. Unlike the first time, though, Commissioner Riley and Nicholas Heshnor were staring at the screen, waiting for him to make the connection. "Commissioner Riley, Mr. Heshnor," he greeted before getting started.

"My apologies for interrupting you, M, but-"

"If Mr. Heshnor has something of relevance to say, then neither he or you are interrupting me. What is it that was so important, Mr. Heshnor?" Mello asked him, hoping for a new lead of some kind.

Nicholas let out a small sigh before speaking. "Two things, detective. I've first come to apologize to you. I should have recognized Reign when she passed me but I didn't."

Mello nodded at the other end before stating: "Yes, she did make it clear you've met a couple times. For the sake of consistency, I'd like to hear from you how you know her, exactly." He stated.

Although a bit surprised the two had met, Heshnor only nodded as a serious expression crossed his features. "Of course, M. But...I wouldn't say that I know her all that well, if at all. I've only seen her out on the streets some nights, playing a violin and collecting money from the people who watched. She was never in the same place twice in the same week, but I did walk by enough times to notice that some men were giving her a lot of trouble. I stopped them myself and insisted she talk to the police about it. She'd always say no and beg that I didn't go to them, either. She even tried to hand me the money she made to ensure it."

The blond noted the man's expression. Heshnor seemed to have great concern for the girl and knew she wasn't doing well. Despite the stories matching, Mello couldn't help but ask: "How bad were these situations?"

Heshnor bit his lip; taking a deep breath of air through his nose before answering. "Bad," he soon replied before adding: "Some people were trying to take the money she earned and assaulted her for it. Others wanted to have sex with her and she always said no to such a thing. In the end they'd grab her and try to tear off her clothes. Either way, she always ended up getting hurt in one way or another and refused to go to a hospital or report it to the police." He explained.

Well, that explained a lot. "And your second reason for wanting to speak to me?" He questioned, feeling frustrated that the girl didn't go to see someone for help.

Nicholas looked straight before stating firmly: "Reign called me, earlier today; she wanted me to pass a message to you."

"Which is?"

"Mary and Felix at high noon tomorrow."

Mello was silent for the next few moments, processing his conversation with Leila and the new information before saying: "Thank you, Mr. Heshnor." And with that, Mello disconnected from the police department.

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_**I know this isn't as long as the other chapters, but I hope you've enjoyed it regardless. Reviews are wanted if you want an update, so REVIEW! XD**_

_**~ K. Fang-sama**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Okay, here we go!**_

* * *

Choosing

**Part I:** "Place Your Face"

_**Chapter Nine**_

It was an eleven o'clock the next morning and the task force went to go see Mello once more. When they got there, they saw that the blond was once again in his winter gear. "Where are you going?" Granger bellowed as the teen finished tying the laces of his boots.

Grabbing a camcorder, Mello replied: "To meet with Leila. I plan on getting there early in order to learn more about her." He then picked up a tape recorder and shoved it into his other coat pocket.

"How do you know where she is?" Kampf questioned as Mello zipped up his coat and took the chocolate bar Charles was sent to grab. "All she gave you were names along with the date and time." He added, a bit exasperated.

"I know." The teen stated, taking a bite while making a hand notion for the group to follow him out the door.

They followed Charles and Mello as they drove down the streets. They drove for about a half hour, give or take a few minutes. After parking, the task force followed Mello to the path leading to Marian Feelix Music Store. There was a group of people huddled around the front of the store, which Mello had to push his way through in order to see the person he was looking for. Leila was in the center of this circle, playing her violin without a care and her ever-so-misleading smile plastered onto her face.

She had just finished a piece, causing people to applaud and toss more of their lose change into her violin case. She bowed with grace, eyes scanning the crowd as she soon met eyes with Mello. The smile seemed to grow into a more real one, where she rose to face her audience. "If you don't mind," she spoke, "I'd like to play you all a personal favorite." She stated, getting back into position.

Mello, by this point, had just started to record her as she got the song. It started off with an edgy yet steady beat that inclined the audience to listen intently. The same rift was played thrice before she added a few slower strokes. Then she began to move in time to her song as it picked up the pace; flipping, twirling, and moving to different parts of the audience. The tune then changed to something similar to its original rift; keeping the audience interested as she strode across her circle and even stood on the bench behind her.

The song had seemed to be a conversion from a rock song of some kind, judging by the rhythm and pace, but it was personal, regardless. And such a tune was danced to in a fast-paced performance, most likely ballet judging by the flexibility alone. This only seemed to make more sense in portrayal to the girl's figure, and added to Mello's notes about her.

The performance soon ended, the girl bowing and telling her audience she was taking a break before moving to collect her loot and put her precious instrument away. Mello pocketed the camcorder; placing his hand in his other pocket in order to touch the tape recorder. He and Charles moved to approach her, deciding to make the original act from before stick, just like in the Leather Bound. So, false-smile on, Mello observed the girl as a few children came up to her.

"That was so cool, Laura!" One of them said, catching Mello off guard. Reign, Leila, and now Laura; this girl really did come prepared when it came to a cover.

"Thank you," she replied, a warm smile on her face.

"If I started learning, would I be able to perform like you do."

Laura, as she was now calling herself, chuckled lightly. "Yes. But my style comes from years of dancing and years of practice. You're not going to be good that quickly, but you can if you really work at it." She assured them.

"I will!" They all chimed, making her sad smile become a bit more evident.

The blond decided now was as good as time as any to grab her attention again. So, arm raised, he called out to her. "Laura!"

Said girl's head turned, a pleased glimmer in her eyes. "Hang on, Alexander!"

Alexander? A name derived the Greek name: Alexandros, which meant: "Defending Man." Any regular person would say Alex, but why Alexander? Was she trying to flatter him with the great ruler of Macedon? No, that couldn't be it. L had her helping specifically so she could mess with him. So...why?

The girl left the children, approaching them with a smirk on her face. "Hello, Alexander," she whispered, kissing his cheek before eying the brunette behind him. "You must be Charles. Leo mentioned that you were the best one he could find in order to help out."

The man nodded, bowing his head. "Nice to meet you; although, I'm not quite sure what I should call you." He stated with the up most sincerity.

Her smile remained. "Laura Kain." She introduced herself, holding out her hand. "Here, anyways." She muttered so only they could hear it.

The act continued, Mello wrapping his arm around her waist as he began to whisper in her ear. If the people around them could hear what he said, they'd know that there was no love forming between these two. "The task force is here, so don't think I'm letting you off the hook without something good." He warned her.

"Wouldn't dream of it." She whispered back, giving him a peck on the lips before leading the pair to her bench. Leila took a seat in the middle, allowing Charles and Mello to sit on either end of her. She was smiling still, but the tone of her voice was far from warm or comforting. "Tapestry Diner this time around, huh? Did you find anything of use?" She questioned him, not anymore pleased than Mello was.

The blond nodded. "A message was left behind. 'For the better.'" He informed her.

She sighed. "How many victims does this make, now?"

Mello paused before giving any form of answer. "Seventy dead, twenty-two injured." Another annoyed sigh escaped her lips. It was odd, considering the girl acted like Near, but two weeks and twelve bombs were never something to be proud of. Leila clearly wanted the suspect caught, but she still wouldn't give her take on who she thought it was that she saw. It was a problematic standpoint, but one Mello was seeing through.

Leila soon turned to him. "And I take it you still don't know who?" She teased, a smirk rising.

Ah, there was that annoying side of her. "Six candidates from three different elections. Two have confirmed alibis, and another is extremely unlikely." He stated.

"The magic number three." She stated in an amused tone as someone exited from the store.

"Laura, what do you think you're doing?" A scruffy man had asked her.

Her gaze hardened as she turned to look at him. "I'm taking my break, Gordon. I've been performing out here for four hours already." The two men beside her has wide eyes at hearing that. Four hours? In this cold weather and her unhealthy frame? That was just begging for the girl to get sick, especially considering the fact she admitted to Mello she performed in the streets at night, also.

"Yeah, and your break don't start until noon. Get back to the violin before I tell boss-lady you left for the day not expecting your paycheck."

Leila let out an annoyed sigh. What perfect timing. "Fine, just give me five minutes to catch my breath."

"I'm counting." He said, retreating to the warmth of the store.

The two men stared at her, concern mixed with shock at the sudden information. She didn't have to look to know that they were staring at her. "Say what you will about it; it's a paying job and one I'd keep before starving to death." Leila then crossed one of her legs as she turned to face Mello. "Anything else giving you a hint on who you're looking for? Did you trace back their alibis for last night?"

The elder teen hardened his gaze but remained silent. He had assumed her condition before, and it couldn't be helped until the case was finished. All the same, he was disgusted at the idea that she had to deal with this daily. So, after a few moments of silence, Mello responded. "That's the problem, they don't _have_ alibis for last night. One claims he was home for the incidents, another hasn't been spotted by the press in order to give him one and the last one claims he's been too busy organizing movements to improve the city. Nothing's there to give us a clue on who's lying."

Leila began to chuckle lightly, still amused. "You're going on a one-tracked mind, Alexander. Away from the stress, you probably wouldn't, but now you have to force logic into place and look for a different angle. If you can't manage that, you're not going to get very far as a detective." She informed him, curtly.

Mello growled a bit but didn't dare shout. "Then you've found a different lead." He stated firmly.

She smirked. "Tell me, what is Shroud's MO. Why is he so difficult for the police to catch?"

"He avoided detection by the street cameras by ducking his head and laying low, he sets bombs off without people realizing he's carrying one, and there's nothing left behind from the scene unless it's intentionally hidden and the snow and ice make it impossible to track his footprints and where he goes after each explosion." He stated firmly, not enjoying the predicament.

"Are you sure he's avoided being caught by every camera?" She then asked.

"Yeah, we can't even tell which one's him when he comes out from the angles of the-" Mello stopped speaking. They were looking over traffic cameras to try and pick Shroud out, which was easier said than done. There were, however, more cameras that they could have used, but didn't even bother to consider.

His head dropped in his hand. How could he miss that?

Leila smiled, taking a folded parchment of paper out from her coat pocket before handing it to him. She pecked his cheek after placing it in his free hand, whispering: "You can take surveillance with you when you leave." And with that, she rose to continue playing her beloved instrument.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Okay, I've been taking too much of a break from this. If I don't continue with it, I will never get to the other three parts. So...here's chapter 10!**_

* * *

Choosing

**Part I:** "Place Your Face"

_**Chapter Ten**_

Mello sat in front of his laptop with a chocolate bar in his mouth as he reviewed over the video files. The list Reign/Leila/Laura Kain had given him was a list of stores that were around the facilities that were destroyed. Each store had another thing in common; they had set up security cameras on the interior of their buildings as well as hidden ones on their exterior walls. Cameras that would take a very pristine and analytical eye to spot.

It was in this area he found Shroud to be a rather sloppy bomber. He had evaded cameras visible to the naked eye, but only people like him, L and yes, even Near, would notice such cameras. The fact Leila had noticed them was another factor that proved she deserved to be in Whammy's House. The cameras did help paint a better picture of Shroud. His face didn't show, the videos were in black and white, and there was no sound, but Mello was able to get the criminal's height. With that done, Zachary Mildreph was cleared of suspicion, since he had half a foot on the other two.

Now, Thomas Reed and Richard Leeward were under surveillance, but the two were both politicians and whichever one was Shroud knew from their little interrogation sessions the other day that M was on to him. Naturally, Shroud was going to have to sneak past them somehow, but the question on how and where he'd strike next was the real question.

Then there was his eye witness. As much as Mello didn't want to think about the girl, he couldn't help but feel pissed off at the bastard named Gordon down at Marian Feelix. Sure, Mello knew Leila did multiple things in order to survive out on the streets, but...for her to be working the way she was counted against Labor Laws, didn't it? The blond didn't know her salary, but he was willing to bet it was below minimum wage. And Gordon, the damn prick, was most definitely abusing his position over her and squeezing every last drop our of Leila throughout her workday.

No wonder Leila wanted to leave.

Now that Mello thought about it, how did Leila find out who L was, and how did she corner him into making a deal with him? L took great precautions to make sure no one found out who he was. Numerous aliases, constantly moving between hotels, no GPS, avoiding cameras, always using disposable cell phones, changing his voice when making contact with the public, and having the best computer software available in order to make sure he doesn't get hacked. Leila...didn't have much. True, she was a very intelligent and witty girl, it didn't explain how she found out what no one else could.

Mello shook his head, deciding now would be a good time to make a report to L, especially seeing that there was nothing else before him in order for him to incriminate one suspect. He turned on his camera, waiting patiently for the capital L to appear. "I take it you've made progress." Came the cryptic voice.

The blond nodded. "We are now down to two. It seems as though one of the mayor candidates are up for grabs." He stated.

L let out a small chuckle before asking: "Why don't we have one, yet?"

Mello rolled his eyes. "I don't have any evidence to incriminate one of them. And neither one of them are displaying the angered, driven psyche of our bomber."

"By your description, you think you would have poked at the loser of that election." L commented.

"I would, if not for having gotten a good look at who the loser is as a person. If he were doing this, he would have lashed out at the current mayor by now, but he hasn't. By his claims, he's been busy working on community projects, and from what I've gathered, he's serious about it. He's even been helping clean up the damage and volunteers some nights at the hospitals where the victims are being treated."

"Yet, not at the same time as the bombings? That's a bit too much of a coincidence."

Mello snorted. "So's the mayor not being busy at any given time of the bombs with no alibi to stand for him. Besides, I can't point it at the current mayor because he is also not angry, but is still very calculative." He explained.

"A pickle." L stated, sounding amused. The blond only hummed in agreement. Where was the rage in these suspects? Something was missing, here, he just had to find out what. "How's Leila doing?" L asked curiously.

Blinking a few times, having been caught off guard by the question, Mello replied: "I don't really know. I met up with her at her job at a music store, and it didn't seem like she was having a good time, especially when some employee threatened her with taking away her paycheck. She seemed happy while playing her last song, which was played around the same time I showed up."

"Do you know what the song is?"

Mello shook his head. "I haven't even begun searching for the name. It's obviously a rock song, not more than five years old, and a song she's deemed a personal favorite of hers. I'd dig up answers, only I've been preoccupied with looking for more evidence." He informed the man.

There was a pause there. Mello imagined that L was most likely biting his thumb, as he normally did whenever he was planning or just concerned. By his curiosity in Leila, Mello was wagering both. "If you want, I'll start looking for the song. It shouldn't take me long, and I'm sure you've been busy sifting through the facts Leila has given you with your first meeting."

Now that caught the blond off guard. He missed something? _"Damn it!"_ He mentally cursed. However, Mello did manage to calmly respond to L's proposition. "I would appreciate that. Thank you." Now, Mello had a lot of pride on him, and he would have been able to find the song with as much ease as L, but he didn't want to without knowing what it was during his conversation with Leila that he missed. What was there that he didn't get?

Mello sent L a copy of the video of Leila playing her violin and dancing outside of Marian Feelix. With a brief goodbye, the two returned to what they were doing before. "Charles!" Mello yelled, frustrated once more. The man stepped into the room, surprised the teen was now yelling. Mello had been able to contain his rage, and when he hadn't, he restrained from taking it out on people or on the walls, which was a good thing. Clearly, the boy's patience seemed to be reaching its limit. "Get me some damn dinner! After that, I don't want you bothering me for the rest of the night, got it?"

Charles was silent for a few minutes before responding. "Uh...of course, Mello. What would you like?" He asked out of courtesy.

"I don't care, just get it ready for me!" And with that, Mello went to the bathroom for another hot shower.

* * *

_**I did not expect this chapter to take so long, but it's better than forcing it out of me in a week's time. I do have the next chapter in mind and am working on it as we speak. Hopefully, I'll have it up before Thanksgiving. Don't hold me to it...**_

_**~ K. Fang-sama**_


End file.
